


Cat Fancy

by dramady, edonyx



Category: Adam Lambert fandom, American Idol RPF, lambliff
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/edonyx/pseuds/edonyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> First, Tommy was a kitten who shredded clothes and ran into things. Then he was a (very cute) boy. Who ran into things.</p><p><b>Authors' Notes:</b> We blame <a href="http://cuteoverload.files.wordpress.com/2010/06/67.jpg?w=560&h=778">this</a>. Cracky, obvs. The authors want to stress that this fic was started prior to Adam referring to Tommy as a kitty cat on stage.<br/>Find our OF <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Madeleine+Delaney&x=0&y=0">here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat Fancy

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.

"Mew? Mew!"

"Uh, open the box, Adam. Your birthday present's going to suffocate, otherwise." Cam hands a box over to Adam, and from inside, there's the sound of little paws batting at the cardboard. The table has cake and beer bottles, wineglasses and little bits of wrapping paper strewn on it, but this is something to keep Adam company on the bus, while they're on tour, freshly back after a break for the holidays. Glam Nation 2011, returning in full swing.

"What in the world did you get me?!" With a mixture of alarm and curiosity, Adam pulls the paper off and opens the top of the box and -

"Oh my God."

The little kitten inside the box is a mottled blondie and it's _adorable_. And totally impractical for a tour bus. Good grief. Mindful of baby cat claws, Adam reaches in and pulls the little body out and cradles it to his chest. "I cannot believe you got me a kitten. This is ... such a bad idea." Which doesn't explain why he's got the kitten tucked up under his chin, all warm and purry.

Monte says something about Adam finally getting pussy, and everyone laughs. The kitten wriggles in Adam's warm hands, trying to get down the inside of his shirt, little needle claws catching on the fabric and pulling threads loose. "Just think, you don't have to worry about letting it out to go to the bathroom... he'll sleep and eat and probably snuggle with you... he's cute, huh? What're you going to name him?" Cam refills Adam's wineglass, topping up her own. The guys can get their own damn beer if they want a refill.

"Ack." Adam has to work out the claw situation first, which means he ends up holding the kitten out in his hands to give it a good look over. "Hmmm. I finally have a bunkmate, huh?" And he cocks his head as the kitten does. "I think - wait." He looks to Cam. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy," LP provides, taking the kitten by the scruff of its neck and dangling it in front of Adam. "We've got the rest of the stuff for you that you'll need, so... happy birthday. Here's some pussy." The kitten bats toward the end of Adam's nose, letting out a pathetic little sound.

"Longineu! You're hurting him!" Adam (carefully) snatches the kitten back, holding him to his chest again. "Poor baby." The little heart is beating _ so hard_. He murmurs softly, petting down the kitten's back. "I'll call him Tommy," which, he's pleased to note, will irritate Neil, who thinks animals should have animal names and not human names. Tommy the cat. "We need to get you a little glitter collar with your name on it."

And that's how Adam comes to have a kitten. One who makes himself at home in the bus, though Adam stops short of having the litter box in his area. No, that goes out in the public area. And of course, he does go to a pet store and get a little silver glittery collar and a little name tag, heart-shaped, with 'Tommy' inscribed on it.

When Tommy's not with Adam, he's running around the bus chasing shadows and wires, and it's not uncommon to hear the thump of Tommy crashing into a wall, a window, a door, or someone's ankle. The downside of it being an ankle is that Tommy usually tries to climb the leg that the ankle's attached to, unless Adam's around. Then it's _Adam_ that gets attacked, Tommy winnowing up loose pants or t-shirts to be as close as he can.

Kitten claws are like razors, Adam and his band learn and Adam is sure that Cam and Longineu regret getting him Tommy more than once. But at night, when they're on the road, the rumble of the bus engine under them and Adam is slow to unwind, he lies on his bed on his side with the feather toy and he plays with his kitten and it's _really_ fun, actually; soothing too. "Quit running into things, honey," he tells the kitten. "You'll hurt your brain."

Tommy bats at the feathers, crouching down into a pounce before throwing himself at Adam and the feathers, toes spread and claws out, and he hooks himself into Adam's shirt, climbing up onto him to nestle in the crook between his neck and his shoulder, purring. He puts himself to sleep when Adam's relaxed by sucking on his earlobe and making little sounds.

Adam's woken up by the sound of Monte yelling, "Where's that cat? Where is it? Adam, your kitten _barfed_ in one of my shoes!"

Of course, when Adam startles, Tommy startles and that means claws. "Augh!" Adam shouts, pulling Tommy gently away from his _chest_. "Monte, please don't yell," he says, getting up, Tommy in his arms. "He can't help it, you know." He meets Monte at the doorway. "Maybe he's got a delicate stomach or something."

"He did it deliberately," Monte accuses, eyeing the furry, blinking creature in Adam's arms. "I gave him shit last night for clawing at the couch, and this is what I woke up to."

Tommy peeps a sound up at Adam, looking up with nothing short of adoration, the perfect expression of adorable innocence. He wriggles a little so he can drop to the floor, twining around Monte's ankles and mewing. Then, a noise from the public area of the bus startles him, and he gallops away, and there's the telltale thump of him smacking into something.

"He barfed in my shoe," Monte reminds. "I don't care how cute you think he is, he puked in something I wear."

"He's probably brain-damaged," Adam notes with a wince. "I'm sorry about your shoe. Shoes? One shoe? Two? Either way, I can buy you a new pair, okay?" And he goes off to find out what Tommy's run into this time.

Of course, it's Neil's bright idea to bring a laser pointer onto the bus and _much_ hilarity ensues as everyone piles onto the sofas, feet off the floor as Adam's brother taunts the kitten with the darting red light.

"That's mean," Adam notes, watching with amusement and worry.

The pointer has Tommy leaping at the walls - and crashing, of course - skittering around on the floor, pouncing on the dot, on cushions, on Adam when Neil trains the pointer on Adam's chest. Tommy digs his claws into Adam's stomach before launching himself off and onto the floor again. He runs full-tilt into one of the cupboards and knocks himself silly, reeling back a few steps to sit down.

"Shit, _Neil!_" Adam slaps at his brother's head before going over and scooping the kitten up again. "Enough! Enough. Poor baby." And yes, Adam looks like he's taken up a love of exotic sex games with all the scratches on him. Twitter has been abuzz with speculation. "Can a cat get brain damage?" He asks idly.

"That cat _has_ brain damage," Neil answers. "Trust my brother go to for fluff rather than brains, right?" From Adam's hands, the kitten takes a swipe at Neil, needle-claws out and then tucks himself up against his master, where he knows he's safe. "I once knew a cat that couldn't land on its feet. It'd jump off of the bed or whatever, and land on its head. _Hilarious._ See if Tommy can land on his feet! Bet he can't."

"Shut up. You're so mean." But even as Adam is turning to take Tommy back to his bedroom, he looks at Monte. Really now. Can cats get brain damage? Concussions? He needs to Google this, which is does and that finds him checking Tommy's pupils. If they're equal and responsive, Tommy's fine.

So, it turns out, Tommy's fine. Just ... prone to running headlong into things. While he's online, Adam orders claw covers; there's a line and he's drawing it.

Later, Adam finds Tommy asleep on his closed laptop, soothed by the warmth and vague hum of it, front and back legs sprawled out, the tip of his tail resting over the USB port on the right side.

"So, what do you do with him when we're onstage? Or does Cam need to get you one of those purses that you can carry your pet around in?" Monte grins over at Adam, noodling out something that could be one of the songs he plays with Adam, or something new for his solo work. "I'm telling you, though, if he vomits in anything I own again, you're not going to have to worry about what to do with him at the shows, because he's going to have a new owner. Cats are supposed to be _smart,_ can't you teach him?"

"He's - " Well, Adam was about to say that Tommy's smart, but that isn't quite true. "Cats can't be trained," he amends. "Well, not really. And he's sweet. He hasn't barfed since, has he?" So far, the kitten has stayed in the bus when they've been performing; the dressing room is a bad option since the door opens and closes so much. When he crouches down and waggles his fingers, the kitten bounds over so Adam can pick him up, showing Monte the silver claw covers that he struggled to get on. "Glam!cat!" he smiles.

"He's dumb," Monte declares, but leans in to scratch his fingertips on the white patch on Tommy's head. "He's pretty cute, though, and he _has_ barfed again, but on the floor and not in my shoes. LP stepped in it." Monte laughs. The kitten tries to climb up Adam, but with the claw covers, all he does is bat ineffectually at Adam's clothes. Not a bad thing, when he'd shredded one of Adam's vests because of the sequins on it, last week. When Adam calls him Glam-Cat, Tommy responds, mewing up at Adam and flexing his paws against Adam's body.

"At least he seems happy. I don't think any of us could handle having a cat with an attitude on the bus with us all the time."

"He's sweet as anything, I love him." And when Adam makes kissy faces at Tommy, Tommy licks his mouth, which gets Adam laughing. The vest incident had not been a laughing matter and Tommy had had a time out (which really meant nothing, Adam's sure, to the cat). But he finally does tweet a picture of Tommy, calling him his glitterbaby after he'd managed to get a teeny fauxhawk in the kitten's fur. The picture also becomes Adam's phone background.

"You don't mean any harm, do you, baby. You're just ... here, just living life, right?" Adam tells the kitten as he lies on his back in bed, Tommy on his chest.

Tommy mews at Adam, his sense of balance thrown off by the up-down of Adam's breath. Really, he's not that graceful at all, running and skidding more than being properly feline, and he wobbles up Adam's chest to sniff at his mouth. He nuzzles his head up under Adam's chin, and somehow he loses his balance and falls down onto the pillow beside Adam's ear. "Mew?" When Adam comes in from shows, now, he'll find Tommy in one of two places: at the door of the bus, waiting for him, or in his room, also waiting for him, and when Adam sees Tommy, Tommy goes _insane_ and runs around, chasing motes of dust or glitter until Adam's settled enough to pay attention to him, proper. It's really, really adorable, actually.

It's also hilarious that when Monte plays something harder, like Danzig or something like that, Tommy goes crazy, too, winding and winding around the guitarist's legs, tail twitching like mad. "He's a heavy metal cat," Adam's joked. Tommy's also been known to drape himself over Longineu's foot when he taps it, playing air drums in the bus as they move on down the road. But at night, he always sleeps curled near Adam's head.

Adam's woken up one morning about nine weeks after his birthday by an arm around his waist and the weight of a head on his shoulder. The person sleeping next to him is slight, skinny, with kitteny blonde hair and long dark eyelashes. He's also entirely naked, a leg over Adam's hip.

"Oh, shit!"

Adam knows for a fact that he went to bed alone the night before. And the bus was _moving_. Therefore, this is no crazed fan unless they were somehow on the top of the bus, then climbed in ...

Which is absurd. Adam scoots away from the (_very pretty, very, very pretty_, his mind supplies) boy and, from a distance, nudges at his shoulder. "Um ... wake up."

"Hn." It's low and froggy, and the guy opens his eyes to look at Adam. "Uh." The sounds that come out of Tommy even surprise himself, and he looks down to see _skin_. "A... dam?" Tentative and small-voiced, unsure of what's going on.

"... yeah." Adam cocks his head and his eyes follow the same trail. So pretty. (It's been a pretty dry spell, okay? Busy, and all that). "... who are you?" He asks, eyes dragging back to the boy's face (damn, he's got a great mouth).

"Tommy?" Tommy's brows draw together, and he lifts his hands like he's never seen them before, and then settles them down again. "You're- I'm. I don't know what happened." He speaks carefully, unused to being able to speak at _all_, and moves toward Adam, seeking out what he knows is familiar. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"O-okay, um." Tommy? That makes no sense. "No pooping in the bus," Adam answers by rote. "Um." The boy looks so freaked out that Adam lets himself be cuddled against then reaches for a shirt that'll be very long on Tommy, helping him get it on. On impulse, though, he asks, "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

"Out there," Tommy points. "On the left. I watch you shower." He pauses before leaving, watching Adam with _intense_ worry before going out and into the bathroom. It takes a few minutes for Tommy to figure out how to work everything, but when he returns, it's with a smile at the corners of his mouth. "I didn't even have to use the litterbox." And then he curls up with Adam again, rubbing his nose against Adam's jaw, fuzzy hair brushing against Adam's skin.

Ooookay. Maybe the drugs he did in the desert have caught up to him. Because Tommy was a cat and now Tommy's a (very cute!) boy. A very cute, cuddly boy. "My turn," Adam says, though, gesturing out the door, toward where the bathroom is (and the litterbox). "I'll be right back, okay? Stay here, okay?"

In only his sleep pants and t-shirt, Adam ducks out of his room and finds Monte's bunk. "Monte," he whispers. "Wake up. I think Tommy's a boy now. A human boy."

From behind the privacy barrier, Monte's voice answers, rusty and vaguely irritated at being woken up. "He's what? What do you mean?" There's some rustling before Monte comes out, hair frizzy and askew, last night's eyeliner still smudged around his eyes. "Your cat. Tommy the cat. Is human? Are you sure?"

From Adam's room at the back of the bus - yes, he gets a room to himself, comfortable if not a little small - they hear the familiar thump of Tommy bumping into something, except now it's on a larger scale. "Are you sure you didn't pick up someone named Tommy last night?"

"You _saw_ me go to bed! Alone! So of course I didn't! I have to go make sure he hasn't hurt himself. Come see, okay?" Adam turns back toward the room, peering in, but leaving the door ajar for Monte to come in, seeing Tommy rubbing at his head. "Oh," Adam sighs. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Tommy shakes his head, looking embarrassed in a way that's startlingly similar to how he'd slink away from what he'd run into, as a kitten. "Hi, Monte," he says quietly, seeing the person behind Adam. "I'm sorry I was sick in your shoe. I didn't want anyone to find out I'd thrown up." It's Adam that he immediately gravitates to, slinking up to tuck himself against Adam's side. "Things are different like this. I bumped into the closet door."

"Are you kidding me?" Monte says softly, from behind Adam. "Your cat's a _guy._"

Just as automatically as Tommy moves, Adam puts his arm around him and it's uncanny how Tommy just fits right under Adam's arm as he looks over at Monte. "... what do we do?" They have a _lot_ of explaining to do, as if they can explain this. "We should keep him." After all, Tommy _was_ Adam's cat.

"Well, what else are you going to do with him?" It's not as if Monte's got any experience with people changing from cats to human, or vice-versa, or _anything_ like that. At all. At least Tommy didn't puke in his shoe on purpose. "Keep him in here, talk to Lane. I'll tell LP and Cam what's going on, okay? This is insane." Monte runs a hand through his hair, doing it no good at all, and leaves Adam and Tommy to themselves.

Even now, Tommy's still nuzzling at Adam's shoulder in a way that's familiar and completely strange at once. "What's going to happen now? I don't think I can make myself a cat again." He even tries, eyes squinched shut, nose wrinkled, body tense with effort. "Nope."

Chuckling a little bit under his breath, Adam has to ask, "did you make yourself human? Was this something you controlled?" He has no idea which is more disturbing: that this was some weird cosmic thing or an act of will. If a cat can decide to be human, well, that has to mean strange things for the universe, doesn't it?

Tommy shakes his head, setting his hair down over his eyes, and he tucks it back using the backs of his hands, as if grooming. "I just woke up. You woke me up. And I was like this." He still speaks like he's unsure that he's using the right words, halting and slow. "I 'member thinking I really liked you and I really like sleeping with you. And I went to sleep and you woke me up." He looks up at Adam, stretching up on his toes so they're nose to nose. "Hi."

Oh, God, ridiculously adorable. Adam can't help but smile back. "Hi."

Tommy gets stared at _a lot_ as the day goes on. The band, Lane, Doug, all of the crew (not to mention the comments from Neil). Adam says nothing about the pretty boy having the same name as his cat, hoping it will be chalked up to a coincidence. That night, though, Tommy gets to see Adam's show for the first time, sitting perched in the sound booth.

Back on the bus, Tommy throws himself at Adam, heart racing with excitement at seeing him again, looking back and forth between Adam's eyes. "That's what it's like. That's what it's like when you play for real. I keep LP's foot warm when you're faking it and I really like when you _sing_ and that was what it was like for _real._" He touches Adam's face, feeling the way the makeup comes off on his fingers, and yes, he knows how it feels, how it smells, even how it tastes when he'd suck on Adam's ear, and he's just so _glad_ to see Adam that that's exactly what Tommy does, teeth gentle and lips soft on his skin.

"Oh, okay." Adam pulls Tommy away, gently, still, like he would the kitten, even as he's feeling the goosebumps down his back and down his arms. Feeling alternately dirty, lecherous and, well, a little bit turned on, he holds Tommy at arm's length to be safe. "You enjoyed the show?" He asks, smiling. God, Tommy's so cute in his skinny jeans and hoodie that Lane had taken him out to buy earlier in the day; Adam can't help but pet over Tommy's hair.

Tommy tips his chin up, eyes closed, a smile drawing up the corners of his mouth. "Mmhm. I really did. I thought it was really good and you sounded really good, and Monte played really good and so did Cam and LP and the girl that opened for you with the fun hair." His words run together as Adam touches him, and then LP nudges Tommy's shoulder as he passes by. A moment later, Tommy's chasing a red dot across the floor, LP's laughter giving away his guilt.

"NEIL!"

"Oh, come on! It wasn't even me! We don't get to have _any_ fun!"

Later, though, when everyone else is asleep, Adam sits on his bed cross-legged facing Tommy who's back in the long t-shirt. "Do you want to stay with me?" He asks, quietly. "You're not a cat anymore. You can pretty much do whatever you want."

Tommy nods without even thinking. Of course he wants to stay with Adam; the idea of doing something else or going somewhere else scares him. Adam's been _so_ nice to him (that time with the vest was an _accident_, and Adam forgave him for it), and cats are known to harbour grudges as well as acts of kindness. Adam hadn't even laughed when Tommy had crashed into the door that led to the room they're in now, and for that, Tommy climbs into Adam's lap and wraps his arms around his neck.

It's so _easy_ to wrap his arms around Tommy's narrow waist and cuddle him and as much as Adam loved cuddling Tommy as a cat, well, he'll admit that a human has advantages, too. Now they just have to figure it all out (and get Tommy to quit running into things. Idly, Adam thinks that should be easier to do as well. Huh).

It's only Tommy's first day as a human, and there is so _much_ for him to get used to! Like the height differential, and the entirely different spatial relationship; Tommy wouldn't know those words if they walked up and introduced themselves, but in his opinion, things are _different._ So he tucks his face against Adam's neck and breathes as if trying to purr.

The next day, Adam takes on getting Tommy not to eat with his hands. Tommy is actually very effective at eating with his hands (and seems to have already developed a fondness for burritos and chicken wings, food that can be eaten in hand), but it's good to know how to use a knife and fork, he figures. Monte actually helps him, having taught his daughters. Neil points and laughs which is a lot less helpful. "You're doing good," he praises, hand running over Tommy's hair.

Once Tommy figures out how his fingers work, a fork and knife aren't any trouble, and he _gorges_ himself on the food that he'd only been able to smell, before. It's good, it's _all_ good, and the praise from (Adam or Monte?) makes him feel better. He's still clumsy, stubbing his toes on things on the bus, but he only manages to walk into one door, all day. "Are you playing tonight?" he asks Adam, tucked up close to his side. "I want to learn how to play."

"You do?" Adam smiles, getting comfortable; he's getting used to Tommy pressing against him pretty much constantly. He likes it to be honest. Cuddling is always nice. "What do you want to learn how to play?"

"I don't know. One that Cam plays, because she plays two, and that's really cool." Tommy closes his eyes and tips his head up under Adam's jaw. "I bet it'd be easier if she only played one." He's fairly certain that Cam doesn't believe what Monte told them, but there isn't any way to prove otherwise. Little by little, Tommy somehow edges himself onto Adam's lap. He looks down at his fingers, amazed at how far they spread apart, and when his curiosity gets the better of him, he pulls Adam's fingers apart, too. "Can I have a beer?"

"I think," Adam laughs, "that would be a really bad idea." It's just now getting where Tommy might go a whole day without running into things (the closet door is especially bothersome, for some reason). He finger-combs through Tommy's hair that feels like his fur when he was a kitten. "So, bass, or keyboards, huh? Maybe Monte could teach you bass."

"Okay," Tommy agrees, and it's that easy. Monte teaches him how to play and Cam seems to be relieved to play only one instrument.

In Adam's room at night, Tommy still curls up in bed beside him, fingers twitching out the notes that Monte's shown him, blinking into the dark and listening to a combination of Adam's breathing, the rumble of the road beneath them, and the occasional rustle of sheets against skin. "Do you think I'll change back?" he whispers right up close, the tip of his nose rubbing against Adam's ear.

"Mmm?" Adam had nearly dozed off, voice sleepy-thick. "... I don't know." He leans back to blink slowly at Tommy in the murk. "I hope you don't. I mean ... you were adorable as a kitten, but I ... you're even cuter as a boy." Man, whatever. It's been getting harder to be good, to not exploit Tommy's implicit trust of him with how easily and warmly he touches Adam. Just one kiss. One. Gentle to Tommy's lips and then Adam lays his head back down on the pillow and closes his eyes. "Do you want to be a kitten again?"

"I don't think so," Tommy answers slowly. He's thinking about the difference between Adam kissing the top of his head and Adam kissing him on the mouth, and Tommy's generally not so great at following more than one train of thought. "Why did you kiss me like that?" He drums his fingers on Adam's ribs, trying to get his attention. It doesn't matter that Adam was almost asleep; as a kitten, this would have been the _best_ time to, say, jump on Adam's face.

Adam sighs first. He's tired and this is a big conversation. "Because you're cute and sweet," he says, prying his eyes open again to give Tommy a small grin. He catches Tommy's fingers and kisses them and closes his eyes again.

"I _know_ I am." Tommy's tone says _duh_, and he rests his leg across Adam's hips. "What does that mean though? Because you kissed me different. And there, too, with my fingers. Your mouth feels different." He looks down at Adam with those big brown eyes, willing Adam to open his own. "I want to know why."

So maybe Adam whimpers there a little bit, mourning missed sleep. And he can hear Neil in his head: _Trust Adam to want to fuck the catboy._ For a moment, he considers pawning the conversation off on Monte - he's got kids, he could explain the birds and the bees, but that would be highly, highly unfair. With a groan, Adam heaves himself up to mostly sitting, leaning against the headboard. "Okay," he says, and really, it's unfair that Tommy's eyes are that big and that brown. "I kissed your fingers in the hopes you would quit tapping on me so I could sleep. I kiss your hair because I want you to know that even when you bump into things I still love you. And I kissed your mouth because .... " He clears his throat and says, "because I find you attractive. Cute and sweet means attractive."

"But I'm _supposed_ to be cute," Tommy reasons. He cocks his head to the side, one of a few outward signs of Tommy's origin, and then frowns. "So what do you do when you're attracted to someone? I'd think it's when you pull my hair up, or scratch the back of my neck, or-" He huffs a breath and shrugs. "I like when you do those things. Anyway. You said you wanted to sleep." Which means Tommy makes himself comfortable against Adam's shoulder. "Good? Good. Me too." There's a pause before he adds, as casual as a fact, "I love you too. You're awesome."

There's a quiet moment that stretches out as Adam feels Tommy slump right against him and fall asleep just like that. He, on the other hand, rests his head back and stares at the ceiling until he falls asleep only to wake up with a hellacious crick in his neck the next day.

Making someone a person isn't easy, unsurprisingly. Social security cards, W-2s, all that so that Tommy can legitimately join the band for the last few dates of the US tour, going into the European tour. At least when they're busy, Adam doesn't have the time nor the energy really, to deal with the whole "being attracted to a guy who used to be a cat who was given to him as a birthday present" issue. Everyone for the most part already thinks they're fucking and Neil even gives Adam leopard print condoms. Not funny. (Okay, kind of funny.) He tosses them in a drawer and tries to forget about them. It's easier when he hears the crash of Tommy in his new creepers, learning how to walk on six additional inches.

Tommy hadn't minded the silver claw caps Adam made him wear, and he's even got silver nails, now! The creepers make him stumble, and his issue isn't quite with running into things because he's not looking, but bumping his shoes on stairs and corners and whacking his head that way. For now, he's sitting on the bed in the bus, going through the drawers out of sheer curiosity. It distracts him from thinking about being on stage with Adam. "Hey! Glambert!" He's even picked up on the nicknames that he's seen floating around. "C'mere!"

"Hey, Tommy! Say please!" But Adam appears at the doorway, smiling with his arms over his chest until he sees what Tommy's doing and he arches a brow. "Whatcha doin' there, Glitterbaby?"

"Leopard print?" Tommy dangles a condom at Adam, an eyebrow raised. It's obvious he's trying to keep from batting at the dangling end. "Really?"

"Oh, God," Adam chortles, putting his face in his hand. "It was Neil. It's ... yeah, it's Neil." Which really does explain it, doesn't it?

"Do people actually wear them?" Tommy switches hands holding the condom, turning it upside-down so he's holding the tip instead of the latex ring at the base. "_Why._ Come here and sit with me, I'm tired of going through your things." He shuffles over on the bed, leaving enough space for Adam to get on. "Neil still uses the laser pointer." And Tommy still chases it, now and then. The condom's held out to Adam as an offering.

"My brother can be a very nice guy. And he can be an ass," Adam says. He comes in, though, sitting, and he tells himself that he has to get the laser pointer away from Neil. "People wear them, baby, just ... " He takes it from Tommy and slips it over his finger. "To have sex with. Not on the finger, obviously, but ... on ... the ... on. Okay, on your penis." (It's with this statement that he realizes that should he ever have children, he will get a lot better at these talks. Or something.)

"Don't be so weird about it." It looks strange on Adam's finger, and Tommy plucks it off and drops it on the table beside the bed. "Why don't we do it?" He looks up at Adam, his expression a mix of curiosity (which killed the cat) and confusion, then rubs the tip of his nose against Adam's jaw. Neil, on the other hand, is completely dismissed.

"We don't do it because you're a virgin and it would be taking advantage and it would be unfair. Plus you might be straight. Do you even know?" Adam pets over Tommy's hair and smiles again.

"I know that I like being around you. And near you, and _on_ you, and I like when you kiss me on the mouth. You even hug me onstage. You know I like it." Tommy tips his head back at the stroke of Adam's hand, grinning enough to make his nose wrinkle. "People have sex because they like it. What's the difference?"

"What's the difference, what?" For a moment, Adam is totally baffled. "Between being gay and straight?" At least that is a relatively straightforward answer.

"No, between me liking being around you and people liking sex. Who's to say I wouldn't like having sex? Like? Like. I know what gay and straight is. Gay means I want you to have sex with me. Straight means I want Cam to have sex with me. Easy." Tommy's train of thought isn't always on the clearest track, but the thoughts behind his words have a flush creeping out of his shirt. He can imagine what it _might_ be like, but his imagination only goes so far. "I would like to have sex. With you. Okay?"

"O. Kay." Hard to catch off-guard, Adam is caught off-guard. "I don't think we should, though. Not yet, anyway. I ... you've only been human for a couple of months. I think you should be human a little longer before you add complications, okay? Sex complicates things. Or it can." The flushed skin is pet over and Adam cuddles Tommy close. "It's not that I don't want to, because ... I _really do_. But it should be right. You know?"

"Yup. That's fine. I won't forget about it."

On stage, Tommy nuzzles up to Adam, putting a cheek on his shoulder or resting the back of his head against him in a lean. When Adam pulls his hair, it's a display of how flexible Tommy is, and it makes him laugh as he walks to the other side of the stage. Tommy sings along, visiting with Cam and Monte and LP, and they know it's because Tommy's reminding them that he's still there. As a kitten, he'd bite their toes, so this is the better end of the bargain. But it's Adam that gets the most attention.

The audience seems to love him too, judging by the screams, especially when Adam pulls Tommy's hair. Adam tries not to think about sex, but, well, when Sutan reminds him that Tommy has no ass and that's why his pants keep falling down, Adam stares at Tommy's ass. It's there, small and flat, but _cute_. There are times when he wants to nibble on it. Really, his willpower is amazing. He deserves a prize.

Most nights, Tommy hits the bed and he's done until morning (or mid-afternoon, depending on what time they get on the bus after a show), but tonight, he's restless and warm, face against the side of Adam's shoulder until he kicks off to roll onto his back. The blanket that covers the both of them only marginally disguises the jut of his erection. He's _dreaming._

Tommy's restlessness jars Adam awake and he rubs a soothing hand over the boy's chest and settles again, before happening to blink open just for a moment and see that.

He blinks again, reminding himself to ask about that in the morning.

"The morning" turns out to be nearly noon, but Adam does ask, lying on his side in bed. "Do you remember what you were dreaming about last night?"

Tommy actually debates with himself whether he should tell Adam the truth or not, and settles somewhere between graphic and a lie. "You. But it was..." He waves his hand a little. "It wasn't clear." The thought of it, in parts crystal-clear with the feeling and Adam's mouth and his body, and vague with the actual act of sex, has Tommy dropping his eyes from Adam's face. "Why?"

"Because you had a hard-on," Adam says gently. "You were dreaming of me, really?" It shouldn't be that flattering, but Adam is pleased and careful too because Tommy seems a little bothered. "Well, it's normal. There's nothing to be embarrassed by, okay?" When he kisses Tommy's forehead, he lingers there a little bit before pulling back and sitting up to eventually go get himself some tea.

Tommy takes a while to come out of the back room and is even longer in the shower. When he comes out, completely dressed, it's to whisper in Adam's ear, "What about now? Am I ready yet?" A hard-on explains what Tommy woke up with, and what he'd touched in the shower to the point that he'd had his forehead pressed to the plastic enclosure, eyes squeezed shut, biting the inside of his cheek to stay quiet. A hard-on, because of a dream. Because of a kiss to his forehead; a hard-on because of _Adam._

Adam watches his face, his own head cocked to the side. "I don't know. Maybe?" But he has an idea. "Here." And he leads Tommy back to his room and he closes the door and sets his laptop on Tommy's knees. "I have to do interviews and stuff, okay? I'll be back in a few hours. Here." Leaning over Tommy's shoulder, he goes to one of his favorite websites and to the right category in there. "Watch a few, okay? Avoid ones that use the words 'piss' and 'shit' okay?" Another kiss. "Then we can talk." And with that, Adam gets ready and is gone in a cloud of Dior.

When Adam comes back, Tommy's still sitting on the bed, the laptop still on his lap. His face is red and his hair is messy and more askew than usual, with how he's been running his hands through it, clicking link after link, following one video to another. "Hi," he says, clearing his throat. He even has a smile for Adam, but there's something warmer to it, now. Now that he knows the ins and outs - no pun intended - of _sex._ "Fun interviews?"

"Not as fun as you had," Adam teases, closing the door and coming over to sit next to Tommy. "What'd you see?" He asks quietly, glancing just briefly at the computer screen before he focuses back on Tommy. "What did you think?"

That's a pretty serious question that needs a detailed answer. Or, Tommy could take Adam's hand and sandwich it between the warmth of the computer and the equally heated tent of his cock. It's one of the few things that were pre-naked in the videos. Touching and kissing that made it impossible not to imagine himself and Adam, graphic images that he'd had to stop watching at times. "I saw everything."

"Did you like it?" Adam asks, but that's a stupid question based on what he's feeling. His breath catching, he curves his hand and rubs at Tommy's erection. "What did you like most of all?" He asks. "What didn't you like? I need you to tell me, baby, so I know."

Tommy's eyes fall shut and he lifts his chin as if Adam's petting him _just right_ (which really, he is), and when he answers, his voice is low and breathless. "Riding, I think? And I want you in my mouth. _That_ looked good." He snaps the laptop shut against a stopped video on one of those porn-streaming sites and sets the computer aside. "That feels good, what you're doing."

It's far too easy to picture exactly what Tommy's talking about and Adam has a hell of a time biting back his moan. "Okay. Do you ... " God it takes so little to have him so turned on, as if he's waited for this for months (maybe he has). He leans in, his mouth an inch from Tommy's. "Do you want me?"

"Yeah," Tommy answers, and he can feel the warmth of Adam's nearness and closes in the inch between them with a kiss. One hand sits down around Adam's wrist and the other skims up through choppy-styled black hair, and the muscles in Tommy's stomach tighten as he lifts his hips into Adam's palm. He shivers, fingers tightening on Adam's wrist, and licks his tongue against Adam's lips. This, even from being a kitten, he knows how to do.

With more control than he knows he has, Adam urges Tommy back on the bed and leans over him to deepen the kiss. Just that is more than he's had in a while and he realizes with a start, "... I love you," he tells Tommy, his brows drawn together. Love-love. Then he kisses him again.

"Okay," Tommy murmurs, but it's lost in the press of their mouths, in the way his lips part. He knows what the words mean; they mean that Adam cares about Tommy, that he's cute and sweet, and that Adam's attracted to him. Tommy's also fairly sure they mean that he would feel like a part of himself was missing if Adam wasn't right here. It's combined affection and attraction, and Tommy smiles. "I love you too."

"Good." Adam smiles against Tommy's mouth. Slow. He needs to go slow, to give them both a chance to make sure they're sure. So, tonight, will be kissing, which is awesome and just that is nice; Adam's a huge fan of making out, of course and Tommy is _good_ at it. He's warm and receptive, touching Adam like he knows how in the same content way he wound himself around Adam's ankles as a kitten.

The videos Tommy had watched had seemed rushed, leaving out how something like this could feel as good as it does. After, Tommy bumps into the bathroom door when he goes to wash his face, skin flushed and hair tousled, and when he and Adam sleep, it's with Tommy spooned up to his chest.

They're in a hotel the next time they make out on a bed that's huge and soft. Clothes come off this time, tossed over a chair, and that just lets them touch, nothing more. Kiss and touch. Adam kisses along Tommy's neck, his shoulders and down to his chest, flicking his tongue at one then another nipple.

"Oh," Tommy breathes, stretching out under Adam, back just barely arched off the bed. He watches him through shaded lashes, dark eyes barely a glint between, and his "_ah,_" is shaped like a smile. The fingers of one hand tense and untense on Adam's shoulder; the other rests spread and relaxed on the back of Adam's neck. There's so much _skin_, and it's so incredible that when Tommy lifts his hips, his eyes roll back.

"Gorgeous." Adam nearly purrs out the word and Tommy's reactions are perfect, really. He kisses lower and lower, into the pan of Tommy's stomach, but stops there before lying back and pulling Tommy to him. "Touch me however you want, okay?"

Tommy's unsure of where to start, where to touch first, even though he's climbed every single plane of this body, it's not like _this._ "Okay." With some frowning and deep thinking, Tommy's mouth starts at Adam's shoulder, kissing along one collarbone as his fingers measure the span of the other. When he comes to Adam's chest, Tommy's kisses are shorter and sharper, hungrier with freedom to go where he wants. "I really like how your skin feels," he murmurs, rushed and uneven, biting the cup of Adam's navel.

All of it has Adam nearly panting. His cock is hard, resting against his hip, just under Tommy's chin. "I like how you touch me," he answers, reaching up to comb through Tommy's hair. "How do you feel?"

"Sort of like if you touch me right now, I'm gonna be done." Tommy offers Adam an embarrassed grin before ducking his head and following the trail of kisses right down the underside of Adam's cock. He _wants_ to do this. He's been _thinking_ about it. And when Tommy reaches the base, he drags his tongue up in one swipe, then another, getting to know Adam one lick at a time.

"Oh, _shit_." Adam's toes curl and he digs his heels into the bed. This is farther than he thought they'd go. "Wow, you have an amazing tongue." Which shouldn't be surprising; that makes him bark out a shaky laugh.

Tommy gives Adam the perfect happy-cat face before coming back up to kiss him, fingertips feeling up and down where his tongue had been. "I don't even know what..." He laughs, nuzzling at Adam's jaw. "...what I'm doing or what I want to do, or where I wanna _be._" He's careful to keep his hips back, because it's true, with the way Adam kissed down his body and Tommy doing the same, he's shaky-hot. "Do you want your cock in my mouth? Or..." Tommy dampens his lips, flashing another smile before continuing, "...or my hand? I could, you know. Do this." There's one tentative stroke, and then a second that's a little more sure.

He gets another tittering, cascading laugh and Adam's hands rub up Tommy's back. "I... would be happy with either, baby. Whatever you want to do, okay? Whatever makes you feel good." Really, Adam should be taking control, but Tommy looks happy, so who is Adam to take that from him? "Only what you want to do, baby."

Adam's jerked off slowly, Tommy's attention entirely on his face. He doesn't look down at his fingers or the red slip of Adam's cock through them; he's more interested in what sounds Adam will make, how he'll look when he... when he comes. Tommy knows what _that_ means.

His fingers are a little rough from the bass and it makes Adam gasp and bite his lower lip as he looks up at Tommy. But then he smiles, too. "Use the - " His eyes dip for a moment. "The precome? It makes it slicker, not quite so pully."

Tommy nods, colour flaming in his cheeks, and when he palms over the head of Adam's cock, it does smooth his stroke, it makes it easier. Tommy clears his throat and shifts, knowing that his own cock probably feels somewhere around the same. Hot and tight, twitching under the right touch, and it makes Tommy tighten his fingers, just under the head, squeezing. "Like this."

"Just like that." And when Tommy shifts, Adam can reach down, too, wrapping his hand around his cock. He strokes in time with Tommy's hand and he lets his head fall back, watching Tommy with slitted eyes. "Does that feel good?"

"Oh, fuck," Tommy answers, leaning down to push into Adam's hand and to _kiss_ him. He's found that he _really_ likes kissing Adam, and he lets out a groan into his mouth. "Mhm," he says, nodding, and the kiss goes off-center enough that Tommy can bite at the point of Adam's chin by ducking his head.

Tilting his head, Adam nuzzles against Tommy's cheek, murmuring in his ear about how beautiful he is, how sweet and how good. He can feel his orgasm coming and part of him wants to rush it along, since he'd waited for _so long_, but he wants to feel Tommy come. Probably not his first orgasm ever, but his first one with someone else at least. That's a big deal.

It's the first hand other than his own, and even though it's just a hand, it's _Adam's_, and Adam's had Tommy hot and edgy (and horrifically clumsy, after they make out) and _wanting_ this since the idea had settled in Tommy's head. He pants against Adam's neck, the rhythm of his own hand stalling for a moment when Adam's fingers are suddenly slick and hot with Tommy's orgasm.

"Good," Adam whispers against Tommy's cheek as he eases his grip. "Good, oooh." So pretty and sounding so good and sweet and heady. Adam leans down to kiss all along Tommy's flushed face. "Good. Do you feel good? You feel so good to me, so sweet and gorgeous."

Tommy answers with a loose smile, letting go of Adam's cock long enough to run his fingers along Adam's. He's _slick_, and it'll make Adam feel good too, right? "Yeah," he whispers, angling in for a real kiss, and using his own come, he squeezes up and down Adam's cock.

"Oh, God," Adam mumbles against Tommy's mouth. This is incredibly erotic. He curls one hand around Tommy's ass, the other fists in the covers. He draws in his breath and holds it as he lets his orgasm build and and build until it crests and he exhales in a long, high groan. "Yeah."

"Wow," Tommy says, sounding properly awed, body still shivering with the ferocity of his own pleasure. "Wow, that's awesome." He slows his stroke until Adam's hips stop moving, and then rests his hand below Adam's navel. "That... that ruled." With a breath, he leans in and kisses the side of Adam's neck.

All Adam wants to do and can do is wrap Tommy up in his arms, tight against his body, ducking his head so that they are cheek to cheek. "I love you," he whispers. "You're amazing."

"I love you, too," Tommy smiles, and Adam should know that once Tommy's in a comfortable position, going to sleep is no problem. He says the words one more time and kisses the corner of Adam's mouth, then a third time before he relaxes, uncaring of whatever mess there might be.

Soundchecks, interviews, meet and greets and finally concerts, then a bed, either the bed in the bus or in a hotel and Adam and Tommy get to know each other's bodies intimately. However, they haven't had intercourse. Adam has been waiting, wanting it to be special. More special, anyway.

So it's in a hotel room that looks out over New York City that's been reserved that Adam's planning for them to finally do that. The view is amazing.

So the show feels like it's got more energy. A current of want. Adam pulls Tommy's hair, stalks him around the stage, his eyes warm.

Tommy plays it right back, laughing and nuzzling, leaning, resting his chin on Adam's shoulder, singing along, and only Adam would know what they're both waiting for. To everyone else, it's the amazing chemistry they've got, turned up a notch. Tommy's half-hard for most of the show, in pure anticipation of what's going to happen after. During Strut, he rubs his back up against Adam's, smiling, eyes closed.

During Fever when Tommy backs against him, Adam loops an arm around around him, nearly possessively. When it comes time for band introductions, Adam is smiling broadly, for Tommy 'Glitterbaby' Ratliff, his hand smoothing over his hair.

The cameras catch the way Tommy almost smiles, but Adam knows that expression better than anyone. It says that he loves Adam, and could bask in that smile like it was sunshine. He rubs his cheek against Adam's chest, and when it's time to leave the stage, he waves at the crowd beyond the stage, blows a kiss that's aimed more at Adam than at the fans, and ducks into the darkness.

Adam doesn't see Tommy as he's changing out of his outfit, chatting with Sutan. He gets his bag, tosses it over his shoulder and heads for the hotel room. Tommy already has a key and Adam figures if he gets there first (is that even possible?), he'll order food and something to drink. He smiles to himself as he goes. This is a really big deal and he kind of can't wait.

Tommy's clothes are in a heap on the floor by the bed, but the room itself is empty. The bathroom door stands at ajar, and silence stands beyond it. No running water, no sound of movement.

"Tommy?" This is weird. "Tommy?" Maybe he went to go get food? Or forgot something? Adam sets his bag down and looks around, peering into the bathroom and into the closets. "Are you here, or am I talking to myself?"

From underneath the bed, there's a rustling sound, and then little paws bat at Adam's ankles when he's done in the closets. "Mew?" Tommy digs his claws into the calf of Adam's pants and _stretches_, tail swaying lazily from side to side, and then winds himself around Adam's ankles. Tommy hadn't expected anything to happen at all; it's been long enough that he'd thought being human was permanent. And yet, here he is, still relatively kitten-sized, and begging for Adam's attention. After the show, Tommy had come up to the hotel room, and there'd been a sense of _falling_, of changing, and he'd had to scramble his way out of the clothes he'd been wearing, running under the bed to hide from Adam. _I'm sorry,_ he'd say, if he could. _I didn't know._

"Oh ... no." Adam bends down and scoops Tommy up, cradling the cat to his chest. "Oh, shit," he whispers. "I'm just not meant to get laid, huh? Oh, baby, look at you." As he sits on the bed, he lies back, letting Tommy stand on his stomach. "I guess that answers that, doesn't it." His throat is clogged, voice high. "Stupid to be upset, isn't it?"

Purring, Tommy nuzzles his head up under Adam's chin, his balance more sure on Adam's body than it had been before, and he shuffles down onto the pillow, tucked in the crook of Adam's neck and shoulder, and sucks on his ear. It's comforting for Tommy when he knows Adam's upset, and he swishes his tail up and down Adam's throat. _Love, love, love_, his body language says, and he stays as close as he can.

"I'm not giving Neil back the laser pointer; that's that." Shifting just a little bit, Adam turns on his side to look at Tommy and his little furry face as he pets down his body. "Maybe you'll change back? So I won't have to get another bass player." Wow, his throat totally closes on him there. "At least you're still here. Need to dig the litter box back out."

Tommy licks the tip of Adam's nose before butting Adam's neck with the top of his head, trying to smoosh himself either down the neck of Adam's shirt, or into his hair where it's warm. He's not sure what a bass is, or even what Adam's really saying, but he can tell that Adam's hurting somewhere, and Tommy's going to find it and make it okay.

"This so wasn't the night I thought we'd be having," Adam laugh-sobs and he closes his eyes and lets Tommy snuggle in as close as he can.

The next morning, Adam appears in the doorway of the bus with his bag over his shoulder and the cat in his arms and everyone in the public area just ... stops. In the silence, Adam sets Tommy down and then sets his bag on a seat. "Anybody remember where the litterbox is? If not, we need to stop for one. And food."

Cam takes Tommy and Monte takes Adam's arm and pulls him into the back of the bus. "What happened? When did he turn back? I mean, are you sure it's him?" The concern on Monte's face goes further than the disappointment that Cam and LP have - even Neil, who'd gotten used to Tommy laughing at all of his jokes, whether he got them or not - because Monte knows that Tommy and Adam are (were) much closer than most people know.

"He was in the hotel room when I got there," Adam says, looking down at his feet with a shrug; talking about it might not be the best thing. "It's him, you can tell. Maybe he'll change back?" And he looks up at his guitarist, hope and grieving in equal parts in his eyes.

"Maybe he will. Are you going to be okay, though?" Monte puts his hands on Adam's shoulders and offers his best comforting smile. "You never know. You... I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, me too," Adam says with a small, tired smile. "I'll be f- " But before he can finish, he hears the telltale thud of a small body running into something. "I better check on him."

When he goes back into the public space and crouches down, Tommy comes gamboling over and Adam scoops him up. "One of these days," he whispers, "We'll get you to stop running into things, huh?" The cat's purr against his neck has him closing his eyes. "Remember," he says as he takes the cat back to his bedroom. "Litterbox and food." With what he hopes is a reassuring smile for Monte, he closes the door and sits down with Tommy on the bed. When the cat leans up on his body, small paws against his chest, Adam can't help but smile. "I love you too."

Tommy purrs and gives Adam the proper happy-cat face, eyes shut and the corners of his mouth turned up. He remembers food and he remembers the litterbox. He even remembers how to climb Adam's clothes. And when it's time to sleep, the first place he settles is on Adam's chest, little claws picking at the fabric of his t-shirt before he finds the right spot to curl up, nose to tail. "Time to order more claw covers," Adam reminds himself and he watches the cat sleep, arm around the little body to keep him from falling down.


End file.
